V'Ger
by Idonquixote
Summary: An investigation of an alien entity goes horribly wrong. The crew of the Enterprise bites off more it can chew once more. Kirk learns that keeping himself and his crew alive and well is never easy. Featuring: injuries, triumvirate, machinery, and one painful mindmeld.
1. Chapter 1

**Contains a sort-of reboot version of Star Trek: The Motion Picture. Story not told in order so we can get to the action first. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own ST**

* * *

Jim tried crawling, his legs refusing to obey. Fuck that. He grit his teeth, the pain of damaged ribs shooting in all directions as he propelled himself forward on shaking arms, aware of the blood dripping from his nose. He was snarling, the sterile floors no closer and no farther. But he wasn't going to give up here, not after all that shit he'd gone through.

He wasn't going to lose here. Not now. And he certainly wasn't going to let that idiot Vulcan die.

* * *

Spock gasped for breath, his vision fading in and out in blurry swirls. Any thoughts he would have had fled as soon as they came- only one task at hand. His fingers remained outstretched, in preparation to touch the machine's core. Pain can be controlled. It is but a sensation.

The steel tube was midway through his body, lodging itself in his chest with a steady whirring sound. It dug until it reached the spine. He remained suspended as V'Ger continued its task, uncoiling the tubes from his limbs and pinning him up instead. He felt- a harsh breath- the metal touch a bruised bicep- pain is but a thing of the mi- felt it puncture the skin, ripping fabric and muscle, drive itself through the bone- pain is but- until it emerged from the opposite side. Warm blood flowing out, freely and immensely. Quantities.

The second tube rose up- he felt it again, digging into a thigh, breaking vessels and tissue, tearing its way through bone. Pain is of no consequence. You are Vulcan- the third tube was in his other arm, drilling through- this will not affect you- he gurgled- the fourth impaled the untouched limb, leaving both legs useless. A green haze- blood?- he estimated a few minutes before he would give in- he does not estimate- he felt the warmth leaving his mouth, trailing from his nose.

But the fingers were still poised- the task- he had one last thing to do- the tube made an abrupt turn inside him, tearing through a cracked rib instead of the spine. He felt it emerge from his backside with a triumphant sound. He was in the machine's control now, limbs impaled by its mechanical arms, body too damaged to be of use.

_I am ready_, the voice said.

Spock shut his eyes. _My mind to your mind_. Steel against his fingers. He felt the being's essence- the pain intensified- and then there was no more.

_Son of Sarek- V'Ger- Machine- Vulcan- Human- we are one_

* * *

"Come on, come on, stay with me, kid."

Leonard furrowed his brows, swearing under his breath, feeling the sweat roll with blood. But that was no matter- he'd been cut up before. It was the Russian he was concerned with; almost eighteen, damnit- looks like a friggin' fifteen-year-old.

Chekov stirred under the doctor's hands, split lips parting. "The- the," he was rasping, "-keptin."

"Save your breath," Leonard said. But he stiffened slightly at the mention of their captain. Shit. Jim couldn't stay out of trouble if his life depended on it. Scratch that- especially if his life depended on it. And that hobgoblin-

"I'll give 'em a piece of my mind, a real good piece!"

He applied more pressure to the wound on the youth's side, the blood-flow nearly coming to a stop. A wave of relief crashed over him; it wouldn't hurt to lie down, to shove the headache away. Chekov was breathing slowly, but steadily.

"Alright, kid, stay with me- slow breaths-"

He reached for a hypo while Chekov struggled with the task, his face covered in sweat and grime. He wasn't sure whether to smack the kid or hug him because for a second, Leonard almost saw his daughter there, and like hell he was going to let that reminder mean nothing. He'd save the kid like he'd save _her_.

He injected the hypo and waited for the effect to go through. Five. Four. Three.

"The keptin," the youth murmured, "doctor... he's in troub-"

Two. One.

"-rouble."

Leonard hoisted the boy up, made sure not to agitate the bandaged side. They were going to get out of there. "Then I'm coming back for you, Jim," he growled, "there'll be hell if you ain't there." _Both of you sons of bitches_.

* * *

Jim was up again, grateful that the undershirt was so dark- it hid the blood better. Made him feel better about this whole thing. He hobbled forward, the white tunnels curving everywhere, damaged viewscreens still crackling with blurred messages.

"V'Ger!"

No response. He grit his teeth, the phaser in shaking hands. "Hey, V'Ger!"

"Where the hell are you!?" He fired into empty space, partly from frustration. "We're tougher than you think! I am the captain here. Come on out- take me!"

_Just let him go. Please, just let him go. I'll do anything._

"V'Ger! We can strike a deal! I get it- you're a superior being and all that crap, we all get it. So just tell me what you want, I have no idea what the hell you want, so just stop hurting my crew!"

He coughed. The air was heavy.

"Or I'll come to you. Tell me the way!" Please.

The glass bridges rotated above him, some mockery of the master computer's efficiency. With a roar, Jim pointed the phaser above him and blasted away. If V'Ger wanted to keep playing this game, Jim Kirk was going to put a stop to it. He'd never played by the rules anyway. A new surge of strength sent him running forward, instinct telling him to go left.

_Where's the logic in this, Spock? Fucking hypocrite._

Jim laughed like a maniac. Nothing could stop him now. Nothing.

* * *

**And here's my second Star Trek fic. Like it? Hate it? Feel free to let me know in a review! I don't know if I should continue this or not, so this is sort of a pilot chapter to see if anyone's interested.**

**Anyway, thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Contains a sort-of reboot version of Star Trek: The Motion Picture. Story not told in order so we can get to the action first. This chapter should chronologically be the prologue so here we set things up. The first exposition part.**

**Thanks for the favs, follows, and reviews everyone! That was what pushed me to continue this.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own ST**

* * *

Transporter accidents happened on occasion and were the most tragic, random deaths to occur. It was dangerous, that was for sure. If Bones was here, he'd glare at the scene and spit out "I told you so" in Jim's ears. But the captain wasn't in the mood for that. Transporter accidents happened, but they didn't happen on the Enterprise.

Fuck that. They didn't happen when Scotty was in charge. This made no sense. It was _illogical_!

"I din'a see the problem, then, captain. Makes no sense!" the Chief Engineer repeated, staring at the transporter pad, where two ensigns had appeared as disjointed, screaming particles and disappeared in a flash of pain.

Ensigns Lyell and Tokio.

It left Jim numb- he knew who they were, he'd greeted them at breakfast- hell, he'd personally recommended promotions for them! And now they were gone because of an _accident_? He couldn't believe it.

"Get to the bottom of this," he ordered, "then we're warping out of here."

The planet they were orbiting creeped him out anyway, for whatever reason he didn't know. Planet. More like an asteroid with grass. No life signs. Nothing. Just a distress call that compelled him to get the ship over there and check. It was a false alarm. But those two ensigns that beamed down to scan had been scattered into tiny particles on the way back.

And they still found nothing. But there was a signal nearby, blaring like crazy.

He cursed. It was his responsibility- shouldn't have judged the surface based on the readings. This wasn't a job for two rookies. He should have made someone (Carol, Spock, Sulu, himself, anyone with more experience) go with them.

* * *

_"I am here," it said to him, a loving form in gold and substance, "I am here, Vulcan."_

_Spock stared, the presence gleaming, blinding his vision. It was drawing him closer, burning with need. It was speaking to him, words entering his ears one by one: assimilate, assimilate, assim-_

His eyes snapped open. A brief shudder accosted him. Spock let loose a breath. Strange- this type of disturbance had never troubled his meditation before. His quarters were still drenched in darkness. He considered calling the lights back on, but dismissed the thought; it was more prudent to continue pondering in the dark. He first needed to compose himself.

Emotion would not take over.

But it had seemed- felt- real. He could still hear the voice, mechanical, lustful, in his ear. Something was calling him and he nearly felt it on his skin. Unable to sink back into meditation, he proceeded to stand and reach for his tunic.

The world wobbled. A brief sting of nausea, a voice in his head. _Assimilate, Vulcan, I need you, Vulcan, Vulcan, HumanVulcanHuman-_

The captain's voice cut through the phrase in the comm. Spock was needed on the bridge. Immediately.

* * *

If Leonard had a drink for everything that went wrong with "emergencies," he'd have died of an ulcer in less than an hour. And now he was standing before Jim and his peanut gallery (the rest of the senior staff). Literally standing. The rest had chairs, but apparently there was no room on the bridge for the CMO to have his own spot. He was down there long enough- one of these days, he was gonna get a folding chair and slam it next to Jim's swiveling-

"We're not going towards it again!" Jim snapped.

Uhura was steeled against him, "Captain, the distress signal clearly means trouble. It could be what it is or a potential trap. We can't stand by and let it be."

"Well, that should _not_ be our problem."

"Permission to speak freely, sir?"

Jim held back a blue glare. He visibly tensed. "Granted."

Leonard never heard what Uhura was going to say because the criminally late Vulcan First Officer chose that moment to enter the bridge.

"Apologies for my tardiness, captain," he said, more robotically than usual. As if that was even possible.

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" Leonard teased.

"I fail to see how my person-"

"It's a figure of speech, hobgoblin. Not that it's too far from sarcasm." Leonard felt a glare tug at his face. The Vulcan looked like he hadn't slept for days, lost even more weight than the day before, and something just wasn't right about the stiffness. And that was saying something.

"You are most illogical, doctor."

"Hey, hey, guys," Jim called, "we're in the middle of something here. I'd appreciate it if you gentlemen paid attention."

"Yes, Dr. McCoy, your focus is required," Spock said.

What the doctor wouldn't have given to hypo them both and be done with it all.

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**Thanks for reading! Reviews would be much appreciated (let me know what you liked, disliked, etc.)**

**Next time: back to the action**


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